The Profound Bond
by wrong-decisions
Summary: Federal Agent Dean Winchester is an unattached drifter who is obsessed with his work and his car. But when the Bureau starts up a new program called the Human-Angel Cooperation Initiative and Dean gets paired up with angel Castiel, Dean has to learn to be more flexible. And maybe even learn to love again... Based off of a tumblr fanvid that was amazing.
1. The Human-Angel Cooperation Initiative

**A/N: First Chapter of my new fic. This was inspired by a fanvid I saw on tumblr. It was amazing and beautiful and so I decided I had to write it. And yeah so here's the first chapter I hope you enjoy :)**

Chapter 1: The Human-Angel Cooperation Initiative

* * *

"So you're a fed?" A perky blonde to Dean's left asks.

"Yes," Dean smiles slightly. She smiles flirtatiously at him.

"But isn't that, like, really difficult?" she asks. "You must really know how to protect a girl, huh?"

She was practically throwing herself at him and it was barely fun anymore. Dean starts to get restless. Why couldn't she at least play a little more? There was no game to this. It was practically in the bag at this point. "Yeah. I protect a lot of people. Comes in the job description."

"Does being gorgeous come in the job description, too?" She bats her fake-eyelashes and Dean pushes back another surge of annoyance and he smiles instead.

"No, but it does have it's benefits." He finishes off the beer he's holding and sets it on the counter. He sits in a crappy bar in Ohio, where he just finished a case. "For instance, I can pick up beautiful women at bars because I'm wearing a suit and know how to protect them."

She giggles. "Is that really your best line right there?"

"You want to get out of here?" Dean asks smiling.

"Please," she smiles. She grabs his hand and begins to lead him out of the bar.

"Dean," a voice calls from behind them. Dean turns to find his brother, and partner, Sam Winchester. Dean gestures to the girl with his head and his eyes go wide in a "dude-i'm-abouta-get-laid" way. "What, Sam?"

"I thought I might find you here," Sam says, beginning to walk towards Dean and the girl. "You have a call from Bobby."

Bobby is Dean and Sam's supervisor… and their adoptive father. Dean and Sam's mother was killed by a demon when Sam was six months old. John, their father, spent the rest of his days tracking down that demon, but with a price. When John killed it, his life was also taken. Sam was still in college when that happened, and Bobby Singer, a good friend of John's, took the boys under his wing, inspiring them both to join the FBI. However, no bias is shown- if anything Bobby is harder on the Winchester brothers than he is on anyone else.

Dean sighs and grabs his phone. After two rings, Bobby picks up. "Bobby."

"Where you been, boy?" Bobby's hard voice makes Dean smile slightly. "I've been calling you non stop. I had to call Sam just to get to you."

"My phone was off. I was busy."

"Too busy for works?" Bobby snorts. "Idjit."

Dean sighs. "What do you want, Bobby?"

"You two better get your asses back down here. There's a new case and we need all hands on deck."

"Son of a bitch," Dean mutters under his breath. "Alright, Sam and I will be there in the morning." He hangs up his phone with a loud sigh. "Sammy, let's go."

The boys walk out of the small bar without looking back, leaving a slightly confused bottle-blonde behind.

* * *

A black '67 Chevy Impala. That's the only heirloom their father left Dean. A gorgeous antique, Dean learned how to fix her up so that she's always in perfect condition. When not working or eating, most of Dean's spare time goes into making her glisten. Sam always complains about his over-attachment to the car, but Dean doesn't care. He loves the memories. The fact that there are a couple dents and scratches, or that there's an army soldier jammed in the ashtray from when Sam was a kid, or the fact that the leather may not be perfect. He even loves how the doors creak when they open.

And to listen to her purr when she starts. There's nothing like it.

Dean listens to it now, as he starts the car for the long drive back to headquarters . "Carry On My Wayward Son" by Kansas starts up and Dean begins to sing. Sam rolls his eyes. This is typical for one of their drives. They listen to music and don't talk for a while. Then some personal issue between will take root in one of their minds and they'll bring it up and have a long talk à la chic flicks.

But they seem to make the whole trip without an awkward conversation about what the other one's done wrong. In six hours, they're at their headquarters. bobby greets them at the door, holding two manila folders. "Bobby. What's the story?"

Bobby hands Dean the folders and Dean attempts to pass one to Sam but Sam just shakes his head, a faint trace of a smile on his face. "Sam is sitting this one out." They begin to walk up the stairs towards the main meeting room.

"Then who's my partner?"Dean asks.

"I'm getting to that. First, you need to open the top folder."

Dean opens up the folder to find the face of a woman- a mug shot. She sits in a jail in Pennsylvania, charged with the murder of her husband. As he reads on, he sees that, when questioned, she said she doesn't remember anything; that she blacked out. When asked if there was anything strange that she _did _remember, she responded that she smelled sulfur. That was easy enough to solve. Demons. What wasn't easy to solve was that Bobby was giving him this case- why Bobby even had this case at all.

"Why is this a job for the feds?" Dean asks. "Let the hunters take care of this."

"As you boys know," Bobby starts." I'm an ex-hunter. That's how I knew your father. Apparently some other hunters remembered me. They came to me about a week ago with this case. If you keep flipping through, you'll see that there are three more like it. They need the feds to help by being around. Sorta like back up. Said that people were catching on that they weren't actually feds. If they could get the feds themselves, then it would help them. They'll do the dirty work, you just have to stand there and look pretty, which I know you're good at.

"You should probably take some stuff- y'know, salt guns, silver, stuff like that- just in case things get dirty, though."

"And my partner?" They finally reach the meeting room and Bobby holds the door for Dean and Sam.

"That's what I need everyone for." Dean realizes that most of the other field agents that are under Bobby's supervision are also in the room. Bobby puts on his public speaking voice. "The Bureau is starting something new. Something most of you will never have heard of. And your previous partners are being replaced."

He pauses, and to Dean it seems less for dramatic effect and more for Bobby editing his phrasing. "In light of recent events,... others have decided that humans success rate for protecting other humans is less than satisfactory. Bull-poppy if you ask me, but I'm not in charge. So this is what we're starting.

"For the next couple months each agent that has been elected to participate- meaning everyone in this room- will be receiving a new partner… An angel partner." There are gasbs around the room in disbelief. "Now, before you all argue with me and tell me I'm lying, just shut your pie-hole. I didn't believe it either, but here i am telling you how things are going to run

"This is called the Human-Angel Cooperation Initiative, or the HACI. Rather than let the angels control everything, like they wanted, we made an agreement that each agent would have an angel partner. In a few minutes, you'll be meeting your partner. If you're not cooperative, you're fired. Do you understand?" Nods and "yessirs" float around the meeting room. "Alright, bring them in."

The doors open and a long line of regular looking people file into the room. Some of them look like college aged douches and Dean is sure one of them is a hooker. Dean whispers to Bobby. "_These_ are angels?"

"Those are their vessels," Bobby responds monotonously.

"You mean they're possessing some poor bastards?"

"Eh." And that was it.

Agents all around were meeting their angel counterparts. And yet Dean stayed partnerless.

"What about this case? There's something you're not telling me." Dean whispers again.

"Fine! They need hunters."

"So why don't they call other hunters? I'm not a hunter!"

"You _were _a hunter," Sam interjects. The three of them whispering inspires strange looks from those around them.

Dean opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by a low, husky voice. "Hello, Dean."

Dean turns to find a man, probably a little older than him. He has very dark brown hair that provides contrast against his nearly sky blue eyes. He wears black dress pants, a white button down with a navy blue necktie and an old trenchcoat.

"I'm Castiel."

* * *

**A/N: So that was the end of the first chapter. I hope everyone enjoyed it. And if you didn't I'm really sorry that I suck at writing. Songs that made this chapter happen were 'Seven Devils' by Florence and the Machine, 'Seven Nation Army' by The White Stripes, and, obviously, 'Carry on My Wayward Son' by Kansas**


	2. Castiel

**A/N: This chapter is more an introduction to Castiel and his awkward adorableness. I tried my best. Unfortunately, I don't own these characters or any of the rights to these characters.**

* * *

"Castiel," Dean repeats incredulously. Castiel stares at him intensely as he starts to feel uncomfortable. "Are you…?"

"I'm an Angel of the Lord."

"That's what they're telling me but… you don't look like an Angel. You look more like an accountant."

Castiel tilts his head curiously. "You have no faith, Dean." His voice is commanding but he doesn't look like a leader.

"Where are your wings?"

Castiel smirks slightly. Sam nudges Dean as a warning and Bobby glares at him so Dean backs off. "I'm going to go get a cheeseburger. Sammy, you coming?"

Sam begins to walk toward the door. "We'll talk about this case later, Bobby." The two brothers walk out of the room and towards the direction of the exit. It takes Dean a moment to realize that the trench-coated angel is following them.

"Whoa, Cas," Dean starts, looking at the angel. Castiel looks at him expectantly, blue eyes filled with naive faith. "What're you doing?"

Cas gives him a strange look. "I was told to accompany you."

"To get a cheeseburger?"

"I am your partner."

"During work hours."

"Dean, let him come," Sam jumps in, shrugging. Dean gives him a dirty look but eventually sighs and keeps walking.

"So who's your partner, Sammy?" Dean asks in a cold voice, already knowing the answer.

"I'm, uh…," Sam starts. He does this every time he's not being straightforward with Dean. He'll fade off, but knowing that he can't get out of it, he gives in and tells Dean. "I'm not part of it… at the moment."

"So I have to deal with some mythical creature-" to this he gets another questioning look from Castiel "- and get involved in a case where I have to be something that I'm not and you're sitting here doing… what?"

"Dean," Sam says, annoyed. "You _are_ a hunter. You hunted until you were 26. When dad died."

"I quit for a reason!" His tone is harsher than he means it to be. "I didn't have a childhood because of that man. Most kids are told that the monsters under their bed aren't real. You know what I was told, Sammy? Same thing he told you!"

Sam says nothing.

"Sam…"

"'Here's a .45 and some rock salt, Sammy. You have to learn to shoot sometime.'"

"That's right. And don't you forget it. He made us go through shit that kids shouldn't have to."

They arrive at the Impala and Dean opens the drivers side door in tired frustration. He nearly forgot Castiel is with them, as he was quiet the whole time Sam and Dean were arguing. It isn't until Dean sees Castiel timidly standing outside the Impala does he remember that Cas is there.

"Cas," Dean yells as he rolls down the window. "You coming?"

Cas looks at the car worriedly for a half second longer before looking at Dean. "Yes." He opens the door to the back seat and slides in.

* * *

The car ride to a local diner is quiet and uneventful. It's around one in the afternoon and Dean didn't realize until now that they were in HQ for nearly three hours. God, what were they doing the whole time? Dean doesn't remember and he's too tired to try. He's been up for nearly three days straight because of that stupid case in Ohio. It wasn't a big deal- a drug cartel that the police couldn't get under control. Dean and Sam spent all of two days there, not including the driving.

Dean shuts the door to the Impala and realizes that he's still in his suit… and that Sam is not. "When did you change?"

"I changed into jeans while we were at the Bureau. Shirts I changed in the car."

Dean raises his eyebrows but otherwise lets the subject go. The three of them walk into the diner and find seats in a booth in the back. They look at the menu, but there's really no point; Dean's just going to get the exact same thing anytime he goes anywhere. A bacon cheeseburger, everything on it, extra onions. And maybe a slice of apple pie. Without looking up from his menu, he asks "Cas, you want anything?"

"I don't eat," Cas responds. His voice is just as it has been all day: unattached and formal.

"What about your…," Dean gestures to Cas's body. "Possessed person?"

"Vessel," Cas corrects.

"Sure, yeah."

"I don't seem to sense the hunger that my vessel's body might be feeling."

"And you just… what? Use the poor bastard's meatsuit in any way that you want?"

Cas responds without hesitation. "He prayed for this. He was a religious man. He had faith in God's will."

A waitress comes up to their table. "Hi. I'm Jewel. I'll be your server for today. Can i start ya'll off with a couple drinks?"

"I'll take an iced tea," Sam responds, smiling.

"Coffee, black," Dean says, and she nods. She looks to Cas, eyes growing brighter. "And for you?"

"I would not like anything. Thank you."

She nods again, face dropping just slightly. She turns back to the brothers. "Are you guys ready to order?"

"Yes," Dean says. "I"ll have the bacon cheeseburger, everything on it, heavy on the onions. Please."

"Of course! And for you?" She turns to Sam.

"A salad for me, please. House is fine."

"Fab! I'll be back with your drinks in a few minutes."

"Thank you."

There's silence for a moment. Then Cas speaks. "She's nice. She deserves more than the $4.25 that she earns each hour."

The Winchesters turn to him, baffled looks on their faces. "How do you know that?" Dean asks.

Cas turns his blue eyes to Dean. "That's what every server makes at this diner."

Dean isn't sure how to respond so he changes the subject. "Sam, you never answered my question. If I'm a hunter, you're a hunter. Why aren't you working on this? Or getting a new partner?"

"I'm, uh," Sam chuckles, embarrassed. "I'm training the new recruits. Helping out Bobby."

"So why you? I could really use your help on this!"

"He said he needed someone he could trust to work this. Makes sense. Trainees are…," he fades off, shrugging.

"And, what, he can't trust me?" Dean asks defensively.

"No offense, Dean, but you're not exactly the most welcoming person in the world."

Before Dean can respond, Castiel jumps in. "I can sense that this conversation is making Dean irritable. You should probably cease this conversation before it gets out of control." Dean glares at him.

"Since when are angels dicks? I thought you guys were supposed to have fluffy wings and halos."

"I don't have a halo. I'm not here to perch on your shoulder," Cas responds.

Just then the waitress returns with their drinks. Dean immediately takes a sip of coffee. The strong, warm taste of coffee beans run over his tongue and down his throat and it's almost like the caffeine is already affecting his body. She turns to Cas. "Is there really nothing I can get you?"

"I'm content," he smiles. "Thank you, Jewel."

She beams when he says her name, and her blonde hair flashes as she spins and practically skips back towards the kitchen.

Dean turns to Cas, a small, smug smile on his face. "I think she has a thing for you, Cas."

Cas looks at him questioningly. "Do you mean like a gift?"

Sam laughs and Dean lets out a tired sigh. He turns back to Sam. "So, you're just training little feds now?"

Sam shakes his head. "Bobby has it set up so I'm training half the time and working with you the other half. So, I guess, technically, Castiel is my angel partner, too."

Dean looks at Sam for a second. "Get your own angel." Sam rolls his eyes.

"Do you want to talk about this case?"

"We've gone over this. I'm not a hunter."

"You have everything they need. You're a fed _and _you're a hunter. _Were_ a hunter. Whatever. Either way, you're what they need."

"Is Cas joining me on this?"

"I am your partner," Cas jumps in.

"You know how to kill demons?" Sam asks.

"Of course." Cas says as though it should be obvious.

"Nice," Sam smiles at Cas appreciatively.

"This doesn't change anything!" Dean says, defensively. "This isn't a job for the FBI. This is a job for hunters." Sam opens his mouth to remind Dean that, for the majority of his life, Dean _was_ a hunter. But sensing this, Dean adds quickly "Hunters that are still actively hunting."

The waitress returns with their food then, and they eat their meal in silence.

* * *

Hours later, Dean returns home, which is currently an apartment that consists of a small kitchen and living room, a small bathroom, and a bedroom. It's as impersonal as a hotel room- he never bothered to put any decorations up; he travels too much. The only object that identifies the apartment as belonging to someone is a picture in a silver frame on the bedside table in the bedroom.

He's hungry but he doesn't feel like eating anything and there's no food in the fridge anyway. Instead he grabs the half-empty vodka bottle on the counter and drinks until there's nothing more.

When he wakes up to the too-bright sun in the morning, still half-drunk, the first thing he does is call Bobby and tell him that he's willing to take the case.

* * *

**A/N: There's Chapter 2! Next chapter is them actually working on the case in Pennyslvania and you'll get to see Castiel in action! Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Suggestions? Review it :)**

**Songs that helped me with this chapter was Killer (ft. FUGS) by Bastille, Take a Walk by Passion Pit, The Funeral by Band of Horses and the whole I Love You album by the Neighbourhood but specifically "How"**


	3. It's A Learning Process

**A/N: Hey! Sorry this took so long to upload but I got so busy with finals and everything that I didn't have much time. Anyway, it's here now! Hope you enjoy. Remember, unfortunately I don't own the rights to any of these characters. I know, sad. **

* * *

"You're new at this so just shut up and watch how I do things," Dean says to Cas. They're in the Impala on the way to Pennsylvania, about four hours from HQ. Dean had declared to give Cas a rundown of how things work. "This isn't a usual case, either. mostly the hunters there will handle it. We'll be there for questioning but we're mostly there as back up or whatever."

Cas sits in the back seat- Sam did end up coming on the case with them and has claimed his usual place in the passengers seat- next to a bag full of things Dean used to use when he was still hunting. Dean tries not to think of those memories.

"You said you knew how to fight demons?"

"Yes. But i thought we were just going for questioning and not to fight?" _Good listening skills, Cas, _Dean thinks to himself, sarcastically. He keeps his eyes on the road but glances in the mirror at Cas a couple times. "Yeah, well, you can never be too careful."

Cas sits quietly, hands clasped in his lap like a good little soldier waiting for orders. BUt Cas is not the good little soldier- if anything, he seems to think he's General. Constantly, Cas reminds Dean that he's a "celestial being" and will disappear and reappear at random. Which just makes Dean dislike him even more. Dean works best on his own or with Sam; no one else. If it was anyone else but Bobby he would tell them to screw off, he's working with Sam, and only Sam, whether they like it or not. But it _is_ Bobby and he's the closest thing Dean's ever had to a father. So Dean follows through- for Bobby. Because there is _no way_ he'd be spending time withi this angel dick by choice.

Dean looks over at Sam, who is on his phone like he has been the whole time. "You've been on your phone this whole trip. What's going on?"

"Just texting Jess," Sam says without looking up. Jessica is Sam's long time girlfriend. Dean met her about a year before their father died, and they just narrowly helped her escape Azazel's grip. Also known as "yellow eyes" Azazel is the demon that killed the boys' mother and father- and had it out for Jessica next. Now, Jessica knows all of their family history. Of course, that was when Dean was still hunting.

"How is Jess?"

"She's good." Still not looking up.

"Well, geez, Sam, don't go into too much detail on how your relationship with your girlfriend of almost five years is going."

Sam looks up from his phone, then. "No chickflick moments?"

Dean rolls his eyes. Castiel stays quiet.

"Okay, fine. I love her more than anything. Besides you, she's the most important person I have in my life and I'm thinking about proposing."

No one speaks. Marrying Jessica? Isn't it a little soon? Yeah, sure, they've been together for five years but Sam is just starting out his career. And an FBI agent doesn't need that kind of attachment. It's too risky a job. Especially agents with their kind of knowledge. "Sam… in this life, you can't afford attachments. You just gotta… let go."

"See, Dean, this is why I didn't want to tell you until I was sure!" Dean opens his mouth to say something but Sam cuts him off, voice harsh and cold. "No. Save me your shitty speeches. You can't control my life, Dean. Stop trying to be dad."

Dean immediately shuts his mouth, teeth grinding to bite back his anger. And then it's quiet again. A few times Dean looks back at Castiel through the mirror, who looks like he's about to say something but every time he closes up like a turtle crawling back in it's shell.

No one speaks for the rest of the trip.

* * *

Dean shuts the door to the Impala in front of a pleasant house with white shutters and a blue door, a colorful garden in front with roses and sunflowers and a white picket fence. As a kid always on the road, this scene is picture perfect of what he always wanted. But he was dealt a different hand of cards. He knows now that he'll never have this life, no matter how bad he may want it at times.

The three of them walk up the wooden steps to the blue door, Sam and Dean both in suits and Cas in his signature "trench-coat accountant" look. _That was funny, _Dean laughs in his head,_ I'll keep that one._

Sam knocks on the door and a few seconds later a woman appears to open it. Her brown hair falls messily over her shoulders and it looks like it hasn't been brushed in days. She has dark circles around her eyes from lack of sleep. She's probably in her late thirties, but the stress has obviously taken a toll on her because she looks older. Her voice is quiet and scared. "Hello?"

Sam holds up his badge. She nods and opens the door open for them. Inside, it looks like a typical suburban home, except all the picture frames are set down so that the pictures aren't visible. Cas and Sam stand close to the door and Cas leans over to whisper "they're all pictures of her husband."

The woman, Mrs. (or technically Miss, now) Hargrove leads the way through the house and into the kitchen, where they all take seats at the dining room table. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"I'm good," Dean says.

"I think we're okay, thank you," Sam smiles. She nods and puts on hot water for tea before sitting down.

"So. You're feds, right? You're here because of… what happened- what I did to my husband?"

"Can you tell us about what happened that night, Mrs. Hargrove?" Sam's voice is gentle, as she looks like she's already about to burst into tears.

"I already went over this with the other agent. Do I really have to repeat it?"

"Just for legal purposes, ma'am."

She sighs heavily, choking back a wave of tears. "He came home from work later than usual that night and I asked him why. He gave some lame excuse even though he obviously went out to the bar with his friends and I just got so, so _angry_. I went upstairs to clear my head and that's when I blacked out and I didn't remember anything until the cops showed up at the door and…" She finally breaks down and cries, hot tears hitting the table. Dean tries not to roll his eyes- he's not insensitive he just really doesn't want to be here. He didn't want to be assigned this case, he didn't want to have to haul ass to Pennsylvania and he definitely, definitely, _definitely_ did not want a new partner. And yet, here he is, stuck with all of those things. He doesn't have time for this bullshit. She regains the control of her emotions for the time being and breathes in deeply. "The cops showed up and said that the neighbors heard shouting and were worried. They did a search of the house and found my husband's body in the upstairs bathtub and declared him dead. He drowned."

"You said you smelled sulfur?" Sam's voice is still gentle.

"Yes," the woman confirms. "The police didn't think anything of it but the other agent that stopped by, he seemed to think it meant something. Does it mean anything to you?"

"Demons," Cas assures, as though it should be obvious.

"Beg your pardon?"

"They're demons." Dean grabs Cas's trench coat to pull him up from out of the chair.

"Cas, join me for a second?" Dean pulls him away from the kitchen and into the living room, hearing a frantic "what did he say?" and Sam's voice reassuring her it meant nothing.

"What the hell, Cas?" Dean says, once he's sure they're out of hearing distance.

"I don't understand what I did wrong."

"You told her that what caused the sulfur is demons!"

"It is. Was I supposed to say differently?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"I'm supposed to lie?" _There you go, big boy. _

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because that's what humans do." Dean turns to exit the room but is stopped by another "Why?"

He sighs, turns to face the angel, and sighs again. "Because…," he pauses to fix Cas's tie, which has somehow become crooked in the ordeal, and Cas cocks his head to the side and looks at Dean with an unidentifiable expression. "That's how you become president."

He begins to walk back towards the kitchen and Cas, behind him, asks why he would want to be president when a lot of times presidents are hated or some shit like that but Dean ignores him and continues into the kitchen. Both Sam and Mrs. Hargrove are standing, awkwardly shuffling, waiting for Dean and Cas to return.

"Mrs. Hargrove said that she'd show me around the house. I'll check to see if I can find anything the police missed," Sam says. "Bobby said that the other agent is waiting at the police's station for you if you and Cas wouldn't mind going down there." Dean doesn't move. "_Dean."_

"Yeah, alright. Come on, Cas." The angel follows Dean out of the house, trench coat flapping at his sides. Seriously, who still wears trench coats? They get in the car and it's a silent drive five miles to the police station.

"I could have flown us here?"

"What?"

"I have wings," Cas says, obviously. "I am a celestia-"

"A celestial being," Dean interrupts, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I know. I prefer driving."

"Flying is quicker."

"Yeah, well, driving is safer."

"Statistically, thousands more people die from car incidents than from an angel providing transportation."

"Y'know, I'm this close to shooting you in the face."

"You should show me some respect." If it's possible, Cas's voice get's lower, his eyes get bluer, making him sound, and look, more like an angel and, for the first time since they've met, Dean is startled by his presence. Of course, he would never tell _him_ that.

Before Dean can respond, he hears a voice say "You must be Dean!"

Dean steps out of the car to find a tall twig-like man with a bright smile on his face. Wait a second. This guy can't be a hunter. He'd break in half a second. Physique alone, he'd fall apart. And that smile? Dean has never met a hunter that happy in his life. No, this guy had to be someone else. He can't spend his life doing what Dean used to do- killing monsters, being cold to the core.

"Yeah. Who are you?"

"I'm Garth. I'm a hunter." Cue bright smile.

"Right." Dean glances around before awkwardly sticking his hand out- this is what normal people do, right?- but Garth rejects that and goes straight in for a hug. "I'm a hugger!"

Dean awkwardly shuffles backward. When he looks again, Garth is letting go of Cas, whose face seems to have a mix of emotions ranging from embarrassment, discomfort, and anxious confusion flashing across faster than lightning. Dean coughs, choking back a laugh.

"I was going to talk to the cops," Garth starts, "but if you wanna do that, be my guest."

"Yeah," Dean responds. God, get him away from this person. He's sure Garth is a very, uh, nice person but…. "I work better on my own."

Garth gives him a skeptical smile, glancing at Castiel, but he drops the issue. "I'll meet you guys at a restaurant later for dinner and we can over the material. I'll pay." Huh. On second thought, maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all.

The police station is the same as hundreds of other ones Dean has seen: cops lying on their asses, drinking coffee, waiting for a call. Some are playing darts, but none of the residents out front see this- they see the receptionist quickly transferring calls and reassuring them that the sheriff is "very busy but will see you shortly." One cop is eating a donut and Dean would laugh if he hadn't seen it a million times. One guy is even playing minesweeper.

Cas sticks to Dean's side like a lost puppy, unsure of what to do. The sheriff meets them just outside his office.

"I'm Agent Winchester, this is Agent…," Shit. Dean struggles to remember the last name used on Cas's badge. "Novak." Ah, there it is.l The last name of Cas's vessel- Jimmy Novak the poor son of a bitch was called. Dean puts away his badge but when he looks back at the sheriff, he's giving Cas a weird expression. Dean turns hesitantly. Cas's badge is upside down, Cas looking unaware. Dean sighs and flips the badge the right way. "He's, uh... he's new."

As they walk into the office, Cas is still glancing at his badge like it's made of some material he's never seen before. The Sheriff points them to the chairs in front of his desk. "What can I help you agents with?"

Dean explains that they're investigating the Hargrove case, trying to find motive; meanwhile Cas glances around the room looking everywhere but at the cop, which does not go unnoticed.

"But why is this a case for the feds?"

Dean opens his mouth to respond but the husky confidence of his partners voice reaches the air first. "We believe it's demons."

The cop looks stunned. "What did he just say?"

"Nothing!" Dean cuts in, just as Castiel repeats "Demons."

Both look flustered, take a second to regain themselves, and try again at the same time. "It's just-." "Demons are-."

"Demons," Dean says quickly. "Y'know, drink, adultery. We all have our demons." Dean tries to play it off by chuckling not-so-convincingly, but the officer seems to buy it. Cas looks at him quizzically, blue eyes narrowed in confusion and Dean gives him a will-you-let-me-handle-this scowl.

"The Hargrove case is strange," the cop begins. "No problems in the marriage. Actually reasonably happy and then she just kills him. Have you talked with her about this?"

"Yes. We were wondering if you had any other information?"

"Just that she got really mad and blacked out."

"That's all we have as well." Dean and Cas stand up and exit the small station. Dean digs out his phone where he sees he has a text from Sam.

**Meet me hotel.**

"Cas, where are you staying?"

Cue quizzical look from Cas. What was with this guy and his lack of knowledge about… well, everything.

"The same hotel you're staying at, Dean."

"Just… asking," Dean responds defensively. "I didn't know if Bobby put you somewhere else."

"No. Room 218."

Wait, what? 218? But, no, that was- is- Dean's room. Or maybe "was" is the correct word to use because there is _no_ freaking way he's staying in the same room as Clarence, waiting for the little bell to ring every time he disappears randomly. Or is he remembering the movie wrong? No, wait, the bell rings when an angel earns their wings. God dammit.

"Bobby thought I should stay with you."

"Obviously."

Dean sighs. Oh, Impala, you're the only comfort he has anymore.

* * *

**A/N: So, yeah. That's part one of the I don't know how long yet first case. As you may have noticed, Cas is not so good with the whole questioning thing yet. But hopefully he'll get there. For those of you that asked for the Sam/Cas friendship I tried to put a little bit in here but don't worry, more will be coming. I hope you enjoyed!**

**The whole "Favourite Worst Nightmare" album by Arctic Monkeys made this happen.**


	4. Houses of the Not-So-Holy

**A/N: I don't own any of these characters ****unfortunately. If I did, trust me, half of the things that happen in the show would NOT happen *cough cough looking at you season 9* **

* * *

"So you're Sam and Dean Winchester," Garth says as he stuffs another large bite of his hamburger into his his mouth. Jesus, for a guy who looks like he would break if someone shakes his hand, he can really eat a lot of red meat. "It's actually such an honor to meet you. I've heard a lot about your father. John was basically a legend."

"Yeah," Sam attempts to smile. "Yeah, dad was really…," he fades off, clearing his throat.

A round table just big neought for the four of them- a hunter, two feds, and an angel; as Dean runs through it in his mind he realizes just how strange it all sounds. They're in a bar, too. This could be the start of some bad joke. Garth had been trying to make pleasant conversation about hunting, but seeing that the boys are resistant to that conversation, he switches gears. "How did the police station go?"

Dean cringes at the thought of it. "They had nothing. Although we almost got ourselves into trouble as _someone_,"angry glance twoards Cas, "slipped up and said demons… Again. After I had already told him to lie about it."

"I wasn't aware I had to lie to him, too," Cas replies, voice low and cold.

"Let's just assume that anyone who's not me, you, Sam, Bobby, or Garth, we need to lie to unless I give you other, very clear instructions."

"Dean," Sam cuts in. "Don't be so hard on him. He didn't know."

Dean sighs. Ever since getting to the bar, Cas and Sam had all but made out. Dean is sure he saw a kiss passed between the two. Okay, so that's an exaggeration. But there is some _serious_ hard core bromancing going on between them. Smiles are passed as often as waves crash on the shore for them.

Dean takes a bite of his burger- which lacks extra onions, by the way. Over all, it's an okay burger but what kind of bacon cheeseburger only has two pieces of bacon? Not Dean's kind of burger.

"So we're back to square one, then?" Garth asks, another bite of his second hamburger going into his mouth.

"Looks like it."

A huge sigh collectively escapes the three humans. A memory of an earlier conversation resurfaces. _Shit._ "Sammy, what hotel room are you staying in?"

"Garth and I are staying in 217."

_Dammit, Bobby._ "It's just me and Cas, then?"

"Looks like." Sam smirks at Castiel, who gives Sam a look that's gone before Dean can identify it. "Who knows, maybe it'll be like a sleepover."

"Fuck you, Sam," Dean mouths when Garth and Cas are looking away. Sam smiles widely.

They eat their meal, small talking the whole time. Garth doesn't attempt to bring up hunting or John again, and neither do the brothers. Castiel mostly just sits there quietly, listening and watching human interactions. Hopefully one day he won't just sit there awkwardly giving everyone intense stares while they talk but actually join in on the conversation. But maybe that's a little much to ask, isn't it?

Dean decides to leave before Sam and Garth do and he figures Cas would stay with them but, no, of course not, why would he do that? Sarcasm is a really nice defense mechanism. No, as soon as Dean puts on his jacket, the angel is by his side waiting like an obedient dog. On the drive back to the hotel, Dean's mind is too full of thoughts on his brother, the case, and his dad to attempt any conversation but Castiel seems content with the silence.

Room 218 is in the middle of the hallway, which Dean hates most. The room is decorated in an awful yellowish-cream color with coral flowers. It's like Bobby is purposefully torturing him. No. There's no way he's staying in this room the whole night. He's been there under a minute and already he wants to leave. But, instead, he unpacks. He has clothes for five days- the case shouldn't take longer than that. Besides, even if it does, it's not his problem. It's easy to scoot out of a case; Dean will just say he got called to another one. To be honest, this isn't even _his_ case. He's not a hunter,not anymore. That Dean is gone, thrown into the dirt and left for the wind. He was salted and burned with John, left only in memories locked away at the back of Dean's mind, only allowed to see the light of day when large quantities of alcohol are involved.

Once all is said and done and all of Dean's clothes are hung, he looks to Cas. "I'm going out."

"We've only just gotten here."

"Okay, but I hate the room."

Cas glances around at the walls and at the bed he's sitting on and smirks. "I suppose that I could understand that."

"Don't wait up for me."

"Where are you going?"

"Uh…," Dean isn't sure what to say. He wasn't really sure to be totally honest. Maybe a strip club? He has no idea. Yeah, strip clubs are great but who knows, he could end up anywhere. "I don't know, just out."

Cas gives him a look. "I will join you."

"I don't think you'd want to."

Questioning look, because he obviously has to have one every conversation. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I was planning on going to see… girls. Y'know? Besides, they're probably nothing compared to the Heavenly figures you've seen upstairs but they're all I have."

"Right… women," Cas looks away. "I'll leave you to it, then."

Dean suddenly feels as if he's offended the angel somehow. "Cas…. um, y'know, you can come if you want."

"No. I understand." The look on Cas's face says something very differently, though.

"Well, what're you going to do while I'm gone?"

"Just," Cas glances around, "sitting here quietly."

"Have you ever seen girls, Cas?"

Cas doesn't say anything and doesn't look at Dean either. His ice blue eyes trace the floor, embarrassed. "I've, uh, never had the occasion."

Dean doesn't say anything for a moment, unsure of what, exactly, there is to say. "What, uh, a good looking guy like you? No angels were interested?"

"No there were a couple. I just... never had the occasion."

"Well, you have the occasion now." Dean pulls Cas up from his seat on the bed and walks out the door.

"Dean, I'm content with staying in the room. A few hours will seem like nothing compared to the millennium I've lived."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember asking Cas his opinion on the matter."

Despite Cas's objections, Dean finally gets him into the doors of a whorehouse. Dean can't remember if there's a more polite term for- he barely comes into these things anymore. A brothel, right? Or a cathouse. Either works. Jessica made him stop coming. But, hell, Jessica isn't even here. Besides, he's just helping out a friend.

Is Cas a friend?

"Dean," Cas says worriedly, blue eyes wide and horror stricken. "What do I do?"

"Just…," Dean holds back a laugh. "Relax. You'll be fine."

A girl begins to walk toward the table the two are sitting at. She's probably in her early twenties, wearing black with a lacey, semi transparent lingerie dress that girls wear over their underwear. What're they called again? God, it's been too long.

"Hi," she purrs, her voice just a tad too high to be effectively sultry. She looks at both of them, but her eyes linger on Cas longer. "What's your name?"

Cas says nothing. And still nothing. And then nothing again. After nearly three seconds of awkward silence, Dean jumps in. "Cas. This is Cas. And you are?"

She smiles sweetly. "Kitty." Figures. The purring makes sense, now. Predictable. But at the same time, he probably shouldn't expect too much originality. "And I think your friend here is really hot." She bends over at that last part and whisper seductively into Cas's ear. "You wanna join me, sweetie?"

Cas looks to Dean, fear still obvious in his blue eyes. Dean smiles reassuringly. The angel gulps, then stands and walks hand-in-hand with Kitty towards the back rooms. He'd do fine… Hopefully.

Dean is too busy in his thoughts about the angel that he doesn't notice the new woman standing at his table. "Hi."

He looks up startled, but realizes quickly that he likes what he sees. Brunette, light eyes, curvy. Not bad, not bad at all. He smiles. "Hi."

"What is someone as good looking as you doing alone in a place like this?"

"Just waiting for the right girl to come along."

Smile. "Well, I'm here now." She places her hand on his knee.

"Definitely worth the wait."

She grabs his hand and leads him toward the back. The room she brings him to is a dark red color. Probably to set the mood. The lights are set low. No music plays, but there's a stereo in the corner if needed. Her lips are on his, and he can nearly taste her lipstick, which is kind of gross but he tries not to think about it. Other than the matte on her lips, her mouth is plump, lips full and parted in just the right way. He also doesn't think about how many guys she's done this with because although he knows she's a hooker, that's not exactly the most pleasant thought.

He wonders how Cas is doing, and realizes that that isn't the most pleasant thought, either. But not in the way he expects, which is, of course, imagining another guy. But then he remember that unless otherwise searched, that's basically what porn is. So what the _hell_ is so bothersome about Cas hooking up with someone?

"Is everything okay?" The girls, her name something along the line of Jewel or Diamond, says. Maybe it's crystal. He didn't realize that the Cas thoughts has affected his, for lack of a better word, performance.

"Yeah," Dean clears his throat, snapping himself back into reality. He smiles slightly and presses his lips back to hers. Her tongue slides under his with ease, soft pressure on his teeth. She begins to undo the buttons on his shirt. ONe by one the buttons come undone and his shirt gets pulled off his shoulders. He unzips her very tight, very short, skimpy dress to reveal red. Red bra, red panties, lacey. The usual. The only reason he takes any notice of them is because she stops their kissing so he can- which annoys Dean to no end.

He's just about to slide out of his trousers when there comes a scream. _Shit. _ He grabs his shirt and runs into the hall where he finds Kitty, the girl with Cas, looking distressed and pissed. Castiel stands there, hair every which way, tie and collar crooked, jacket falling off one shoulder. She yells that he's sick; he's a sick, disgusting bastard and what right does he think he have and screw him. She spots Dean and screams "You too!" before walking away. Her make up is starting to to run from the tears in her eyes.

"What happened," Dean asks, buttoning up his shirt.

"I told her it wasn't her fault her father left," Cas says simply. "He just hated his job at the post office."

"Dude," Dean tries not to laugh. "This business _runs_ on abandoned fathers." Dean looks down the hall to see Kitty whispering something to a bodyguard, who begins to walk toward them. Dean hits Cas's side. "We've gotta go, come on."

Deans busts through the back door, laughter pouring out of him. Cas follows, a quiet, confused chuckles escaping him. They walk to the classic car, smile still firmly planted on Dean's face.

"Thanks, Cas."

"For what?"

"... That was… fun. I haven't laughed like that in… a long time."

He closes the car door without another word.

* * *

**A/N: Agh okay so this chapter was really fun to right but I don't know how well it got put into words. Basically, this whole chapter was written to Coldplay. So just pick a Coldplay song and it helped write this chapter. If you love me, you'll tell me how I'm doing. Thanks guys 3**


	5. The Angel of Thursday

**A/N: Hey everyone. Thank you for returning. Unfortunately I don't own these characters or any of the rights to these characters so this isn't canon. . UGH. But I guess that's what these things are for. Anyway, enjoy.**

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"_I know that you just got there, but we need you back already._"

Dean sighs heavily into the phone. Two days. Two days after arriving, on a beautiful, sunny afternoon, he receives a phone call from Bobby, saying that he's needed at Headquarters and has to leave Pennsylvania, there's a new job for him. "What about Sam?"

_"Sam is going to stay there for a few days, help Garth. The new trainees arrive in about a week. He'll be back at Headquarters then."_

Another sigh. "And the angel?"

"_Just assume that wherever you go, the angel goes too."_

"Bobby, you do realize that it's almost five. By the time I'm packed and on the road it won't be until at least six or six thirty."

It's Bobby's turn to sigh. The old man has been working in the Bureau for almost fifteen years, now. But Dean has known Bobby most of his life. He can tell that Bobby hates the order of the Bureau. Everything is scheduled. When hunting, it's go in, do the job, and stay in town for as little or as long as wanted before another job comes along. None of the back and forth between Headquarters. And, also, Bobby's not a city person and HQ being not far from DC does_ not_ make him the happiest camper. "_Well, you'll get here when you get here._"

Dean presses the End button, fingers numb and heavy with defeat. He doesn't particularly want this case but he also doesn't particularly want another four hour road trip, either. And leaving Sam behind? He knows that Sam will be fine, but still his big brother instinct urges him to stay, to protect Sammy, come on, Dean, you've always got to protect Sammy.

That brotherly instinct comes in John's voice.

"We're leaving."

Dean turns to find the angel, dutifully standing by, and correct as ever. Dean nods.

"Then why aren't you happy?" Seeing the look on Dean's face, Cas continues. "You didn't want this case, but now you're upset about leaving."

"It's just…," Dean starts.

"Sam," Cas finishes knowingly.

There's no point in denying what is apparently painfully audience so Dean nods. "Yes."

"You don't want to leave him."

"Yes."

"... I understand."

Dean looks to Castiel. How could he understand? He's an angel- he lives in paradise, he has a one way relationship with the so-called creator of the universe. How could he relate with Dean? Dean's just a human, and not even a very good one. Sure, he's saved a couple lives but that doesn't make up for all the lying and stealing and killing he's done. But Cas explains. "I've made a lot of mistakes, Dean. A few… a while ago, I caused a lot of bad things to happen. Our family was fighting. Gabriel left, who knows what happened to Michael, and Raphael was taking over. I, and many others, didn't agree with Raphael's rule. But when the time came for me to do something, when my fellow brothers and sisters needed me most, I gave in to Raphael. I allowed my siblings to rebel, to_ fall_, without me, the causer of their doubts." Castiel is quiet for a long moment. "Angels aren't supposed to feel regret, but if I could, I would regret that most."

"Why would God allow something like that to happen?"

"God has been…. distant for quite some time now. Raphael is convinced that he's dead, but I think otherwise."

"Wait, so you're saying God is just… off fishing?" Castiel doesn't deny this and Dean rolls his eyes. "_Nice."_

"I'm hoping that one day he'll return."

"You said that you don't feel regret. No offense or anything, Cas, but you don't seem to feel much of anything."

"Before we came from heaven, our supervisors cleared our emotions, saying that humans will cause our emotions to warned us, however, of emotions that are not acceptable, that we should be wary of. Doubt, for instance. Given my history, I'm surprised I was accepted for the job."

"So that's why you feel nothing?"

Cas turns to him. "I do not feel nothing, Dean. The doubt I felt, it's beginning to return." Cas's voice turns serious. "I'm supposed to be a soldier. I'm not supposed to question."

He pauses. "They might call me back soon."

"And clear your emotions again?"

Cas doesn't respond for a long time, and when he does, Dean has nearly forgotten the conversation, moving on to more pleasant thoughts. But Cas's tone, a strange mix of cold anger, sadness, and fear plummets him back to the seriousness of the conversation. "I don't know what they'll do."

Cas's eyes, usually the color of the sky on a bright, cloudless day have taken a darker edge. Now, they're more like an ocean just before a storm- a dark blue with shades of grey from the ripples in the water, a white turned a hopeless, bleak color. And yet, they are still just as beautiful. They still stun Dean to no end. Maybe even more as Dean has now had time to adjust to the beauty of the original color, but there is no doubt in his subconscious that the second the cloudless blue returns, he will be breathless.

But this only registers in his mind as a secondary thought, the primary taking a more platonic point of view. It comes in the form of 'wow, his eyes look really different today. A different sort of blue.' And Dean doesn't realize that his subconscious is making any sort of decision at all to become fascinated with Castiel, the angel, the one who rebels.

By now, Dean is packed and ready to leave. As suspected, it's a little past six as he closes the door to the Impala. Rushed goodbyes and a polite "nice to meet you, good luck on your case" are passed between Garth and Dean. Garth hugs him once more, but Dean expects it this time and is, therefore, more comfortable with it. Sam reassures Dean that he'll be back in a few days, so he shouldn't worry or whatever. Dean pulls away from the hotel with the angel in the passenger's seat. In the rearview mirror, he can see the giant figure of his brother fade off into the distance.

And so starts the four hours.

Without Sam in the car, it seems weirdly empty, as Cas sits there quietly, looking out the window. Or maybe it's just because he's shorter.

After about an hour, right after Led Zeppelin IV ends, Dean attempts to make conversation. "So… Cas, tell me about yourself."

"My name is Castiel," the angel responds monotonously.

"Yeah, I've gotten that far myself, thanks."

"I'm an angel. I've been around longer than humanity."

_Yeah, thanks, that's not helpful._ "So you're not like a special rank of angel or in charge or anything or what?"

"I suppose I'm the angel of Thursday."

"Like the day Thursday or is that like some angel term for something?"

Cas continues to look out the window. "The day Thursday."

"And what does that mean?"

Castiel sighs, reluctant to answer. "I protect those born on Thursdays and help those who pray on Thursday. I'm not the only Thursday angel but I'm on of the leaders, making me more powerful on that day. Other than that, I'm a regular angel."

"Are there angels for every day of the week?"

"Yes. Michael, one of the main archangels, has Sunday. Gabriel, another archangel, is Monday. Tuesday belongs to Gadreel, Wednesday to the archangel Raphael, Thursday-me, and Saturday to Uriel, who has taken on the role of fourth archangel. There are, of course, others belonging to those days but those are the leaders."

Dean nods, but realizes something is missing. "What about Friday?"

Cas sighs again. "Friday and Tuesday are complicated. Friday belonged to Lucifer."

"Lucifer as in the devil?" Dean asks, incredulously.

"Yes. When he fell, no other angel stepped up to take the leader of Friday. He was also the fourth archangel but Uriel decided to take on that role."

"And Tuesday?"

"Gadreel is currently locked away. He allowed Lucifer into the Garden of Eden, which allowed to the temptation of Eve, which caused the fall of humanity. Gadreel is impulsive, which ultimately led him to where he is now. He's a good angel, but Michael didn't want another situation like that to happen, so he locked him away. But he still remains the leader of Tuesday."

"Okay," Dean huffs out a breath. "Y'know, when I asked about you, you could've just told me your favorite color."

Castiel looks at him, finally, eyes piercing and face serious. "Green."

"Green. Okay… cool." Dean, unsure of where to go from there, asks "How did you like the IV album?"

Eyes facing back out the window, Cas replies "I suppose it's satisfactory."

"Satisfactory?!" Dean almost hits the breaks in surprise. "Dude, that's one of the best albums ever made."

"Cas does not respond. And Dean has nothing left to say. After another hour, Dean gets hungry and they stop at a small restaurant. The blue is back- the blue of a cloudless sky, the one that makes Dean's heart stop for reasons he can't explain and doesn't even want to try because the reasons may make him question everything Dean Winchester is supposed to be. Ladies man, tough, cold to the core, no attachments.

They find a seat in the back. It's a slow night, Dean can tell, even for a small town. Dean and Cas make up two of six customers. A waitress comes to serve them almost immediately. "Hi, can I help ya'll?"

"Yeah," Dean responds, looking at the menu. "Can I get a black coffee, decaf preferably, and a water?"

"Sure, yeah." She looks to Cas but Dean interrupts. "He doesn't want anything. But, uh, I'm in the mood for something spicy. What do you recommend?"

She points to the menu. "The spicy tomato soup is the spiciest thing we have."

"Awesome, I'll get that." He smiles and hands her the menu and she leaves.

"You didn't order a burger," Cas notices.

"I didn't," Dean confirms. Cas nods. _Oooookkkaaayyyyyyy…._ Dean checks his phone. Meaningless email, spam, spam, text from a girl he hooked up with a while ago. Like, seriously, why is she even texting him? She made a point to tell him one-night-stands are her thing, so, like, what? The waitress returns with his coffee and water and reassures him his osup will be out momentarily. Dean sips at his coffee and continues looking at his phone, trying not to notice the fact that Cas hasn't looked away from him since they sat down. Trying to look busy and not have to deal with an awkward staring contest with a "celestial being," he rereads an email from Bobby three times before the waitress returns with his soup. Dean's not really that hungry anymore, but he takes a sip. Puzzled, he asks Cas "What did I order again?"

"Spicy Tomato Soup," Cas responds.

"That's what I thought."

"Is there a problem?"

Dean snorts. "This shit is about as spicy as Cheddar Broccoli Soup."

He looks to Cas. The angel looks at him with a hesitant, questioning smile. And Dean starts to laugh. It feels so good to laugh. And Dean's subconscious, the one that's been keeping track of everything lately, realizes that this is the second time he's laughed- really laughed- in a very, very long time. Years maybe.

Dean does end up finishing his soup. Down to the very last drop. No, it's not spicy, and no, he isn't very hungry, but he doesn't know the next time he'll be eating and, in a way, it ends up hitting the spot.

The agent and the angel leave the diner but Cas pauses.

"What?"

"I need to return to heaven," Cas says simply.

"Do you think you need to be angel-fied again?" Dean rolls his eyes.

"That's not why I'm going. I will find you, Dean." There is a small brush of wind and when Dean looks up again, Castiel is gone.

Dean arrives in Arlington, Virginia, about two hours after that. The time is around ten and Dean emails Bobby to tell him that he's back and there's also no way in hell he's going into the office tonight.

His apartment is dark, like he expects it to be. Nothing seems to be stolen or broken, but everything is generic enough that it wouldn't really matter as it hold no sentimental value.

Well, almost everything.

There's always the picture on his bedside table. A small, 5x6 picture that's crinkled at the edges from years of having no home besides Dean's pocket, but now lies in a silver frame, glistening. The one object that ties him to this shitty apartment. A small picture- that's all Dean need to remember the happiest days of his life. He was no more than four. He looks at it now, seeing a younger him sit in the lap of a young, beautiful blonde woman. The two smile up at the camera like nothing else is missing in their picturesque world. And nothing was.

Dean grazes the photo with his fingertips. "I miss you, mom."

* * *

**A/N: Okay so this chapter had a LOT of angel lore in it. I spent probably two hours trying to get all that in there and I actually had to switch around some things to make it make sense for the story but yeah I thought we should probably have some Castiel back-story. Am I wrong? BY THE WAY Castiel's favorite color is green in the chapter because the color of the angel Castiel is green. So that was actually some real lore right there and not me just picking a color.**

**The Cheddar Broccoli Soup things was an inside joke with a friend that I promised I would put in, so sorry if that seemed a little weird. There probably will be other inside jokes in the story but, ah, whatever.**

**Led Zeppelin IV made this chapter happen, along with some Marina and the Diamonds and, believe it or not, Iron & Wine and Regina Spektor. **


End file.
